


Last night I dreamt I went to Winterfell again

by annannette (fanetjuh)



Series: Jonsa Week [9]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rebecca Fusion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/annannette
Summary: Now Winterfell is nothing but a dream, a vague memory of an adventure that has brought me and Sansa closer than we would have been without it.*Adaptation of the musical "Rebecca", based on the novel going by the same title written by Daphne Du Maurier*





	Last night I dreamt I went to Winterfell again

Last night I dreamt I went to Winterfell again. I don’t think those dreams will ever go away. I don’t even know if I want those dreams to go away.

 

It all started years ago in King’s Landing. I was accompanying Daenerys Targaryen, a wealthy young lady who mostly based her entire reputation on the riches her father had gathered. Most of my tasks consisted of packing and unpacking her bags and being her sparring partner during the endless tennis lessons she was taking, even though she was not getting any better. The rest of the time I attempted to converse with her, even though I didn’t share her interest in the famous or wealthy.

“Jon!” Daenerys jumped up from her seat and her hand hit my shoulder over and over again. “Do you see who’s coming in there?”

I looked up from the book I was reading and I pushed my glasses up to have a better look at the red haired beauty who entered the lobby of our hotel. I had never seen her before, although I vaguely remembered a picture of her in a magazine I had bought a few days ago.

“That’s Lady Sansa Stark!” Daenerys spoke too loud to be polite, but she didn’t seem to notice how everyone turned their faces to look at her. “Last year she was here with her husband Ramsay Bolton, a charming and very admirable man. He died in a tragic accident with his dogs ten months ago.”

I let my eyes wander over her.

She was wearing black from head to toe and her face was hidden in the shadows of the black cloche resting on her long hair.

“Sansa!” Daenerys rushed towards her and she took Sansa’s hands in a firm grip. “I’m so sorry to hear about the death of your husband.” She tightened her grip and Sansa turned her head so her eyes met mine. “I admire it that you’ve brought yourself to come here for your annual holiday though.”

“We can’t all dwell on the past, can we?” Sansa kept on avoiding Daenerys’ glance and she curled her lips up into a smile. “How do you like King’s Landing at this time of the year?”

I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, for a moment slightly uncomfortable and then I realized she had really been talking to me. “It’s a little too perfect, if you ask me.” I bent my head and stared at my feet.

“Don’t mind him. He’s not used to this luxury and world. And unthankful on top of that.” Daenerys pushed me aside. “Would you mind joining us for tea?”

Sansa froze for a second and then she shook her head. “No, I have to unpack my bags.” Without another word she walked past us and disappeared into the elevator.

“Don’t you see what you have done?” Daenerys raised her eyebrows while she turned to me. “Because of your impolite answer she’s gone now!”

“My impolite answer?” I swallowed and I scratched the back of my neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t. You know nothing. Now excuse me. I feel a migraine coming up. I will stay in bed for a few days.”

 

And so I ended up needing to have breakfast on my own the next day. The entire conversation and everything that had happened had made me nervous, but when I threw over my full glass of water, all over my table, lady Sansa Stark was so kind to invite me to have breakfast with her.

She seemed polite, more polite than she had been the night before. She asked me about my family, how I had ended up serving Daenerys Targaryen and what part of King’s Landing I loved most. The moment I had to admit that Daenerys came here every year, but never left the hotel she invited me to visit one of her favorite places.

And since Daenerys indeed wanted to stay in bed all day, I accompanied Sansa to one of the cliffs, looking over the sea.

“I never knew a place could be this beautiful!” I curled my fingers around the railing and let out a deep sigh. Countless birds in all different colors were circling around my head and when I looked down I saw small white dots where tiny ships were sailing over the bright blue water. “Thank you so much for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome.” Her face was drained of all color and her lips were forming a straight line. She was probably plagued by a memory, by the image of how she had stood here with Ramsay, not even a year ago. “I will go back to the car. Take all the time you need.” She turned around and without another word she left me behind.

I had met women before. I had been to countless parties with Daenerys, but not one had had an effect on me like Sansa had. I felt my heart racing in my chest while I thought of her eyes, her wonderful eyes looking at me as if I was special. I stopped breathing when I thought of her hand, that had reached for mine a few times during our ride here. I knew that a woman like Sansa was out of my reach. It was all I had heard ever since I had started working for Daenerys. But I also knew that during this one day we were spending together, Sansa had already given me more beautiful moments that I had ever shared with Daenerys.

 

And she continued to do so the next day. And the day after. And the day after. She took me to musea with dinosaurs bigger than I had ever imagined them to be. She took me to restaurants more expensive than anything even Daenerys could afford. And she took me on a picnic in the early morning on the beach, with the sound of the maddened sea as our background music.

“I never want to leave this place again.” I actually meant that I never wanted to leave her again, but I didn’t want to upset her, especially not since the summer was almost over and Daenerys could decide to travel back to Dragonstone at any minute now. “Thank you so much for spending all this time with me.”

She smiled. She smiled and she took my hands in hers. “I’m glad I could show this world to you, Jon.” When she said my name it was as if a choir of angels started singing, but they kept quiet the moment she closed her eyes and leaned in to press a soft kiss on my slightly opened lips. “Thank you for being the most amazing company I’ve ever met.” She pulled back and for a moment I just stared at her with my eyes wide open.

I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I didn’t know if I should kiss her again, if I should thank her for the kiss. “It was my pleasure.” I eventually said.

And my lips were still tingling when I returned to my hotelroom.

“We’re going home tomorrow, Jon.” Daenerys sat on the edge of her bed. Her suitcase was already packed. “I’m done with King’s Landing and how ill it makes me feel.”

“As you wish, my lady.” I bent my head slightly, but as soon as I could I rushed out of the room to find a telephone. “Could you connect me to Lady Stark’s room, please?” My voice was trembling, but after a few terribly long minutes it seemed that Lady Sansa was not there. “I understand. Just let her know that I’ve called.” I hung up again and let out a deep sigh. I let my back rest against the wall and I only shook up when a silhouette appeared on the floor in front of me.

“Is everything alright, Jon?” Sansa cocked her head, an amused smile playing around her lips.

“Yes, no…” I shook my head. “We’re traveling home. Tomorrow.”

“Do you want to travel back to Dragonstone?” She crossed her arms over her chest and she locked her glance with mine.

“I have no choice, I have nowhere else to go.”

“Yes, you have. You can come with me to Winterfell, if you want of course.” Her smile brightened and for a moment I just stared at her.

“You’re offering me a job?” I dropped my jaw and raised my voice, but Sansa’s laughter echoed through the hallway.

“No, I’m asking to marry me.” She shook her head and I kept silent for a moment. “Well, what will it be? Dragonstone or Winterfell, it’s your choice.”

“Winterfell…” My voice was barely a whisper, but I straightened my back before I kneeled down in front of her. “Lady Sansa Stark, would you want to marry me?” I almost tripped over the words, but her eyes started glimmering and she wrapped her arms around my neck before her lips touched mine.

“Yes! A thousand times yes!”

“What’s going on here?” Daenerys threw the door of her room open and she widened her eyes when she saw us. “What does this mean?”

“It means that Jon is coming to Winterfell with me. We’re getting married.” Sansa pressed another kiss on my lips. “I will let the hotel staff bring your bags to my room.” She turned around and walked away while Daenerys was still staring at me.

“Extra tennis lessons?” She raised her eyebrows. “And here I thought you were a decent young man.”

Normally her words would have hurt me, but this time I simply shrugged them off. I was starting a new life, a new adventure, and I would enjoy each and every second of it.

 

And the first few days after my proposal I did. I enjoyed the small marriage ceremony, with just the two of us and a priest in a small chapel. I enjoyed our journey through Westeros, through all those places I had never seen before. I enjoyed her touch, her love, her sweet words and her tender kisses. Until it was time to go to our final stop. Until I was going to see Winterfell for the very first time.

I was nervous. I was more nervous than I had ever been before and the moment I saw how the entire household stood lined up in front of the castle I felt the slight bit of confidence I had gathered fade.

“Seriously Myranda? The entire household?” Sansa shook her head but then she started to greet each and every one of them before introducing them to me.

Their names were one big blur and all sounded alike, but I smiled politely and nodded my head as often as possible.

“Myranda, this is Jon Snow, Lord of Winterfell.” She turned her head to me. “Jon, this is Myranda, our head of the household.”

I held my breath while Myranda stared at me. If looks could kill, I would have fallen dead on the floor, but I tried to keep my dignity and held out my hand to shook hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss Myranda. I promise that nothing will change.”

“Excellent.” Her voice was cold as ice and I felt how my muscles tensed. “I’ve prepared the rooms in the west wing for you. Just like lady Bolton…” She made sure to emphasize the last name. “…Asked me to.”

 

Days passed, weeks passed.

I tried to feel at home, but no matter how much I tried I never managed to feel comfortable. Technically I was now the Lord of Winterfell, but I made sure everyone simply did everything exactly like Lord Bolton would have done it. I thought that was what Sansa wanted. I noticed how she seemed absent sometimes. I noticed how she didn’t always sleep by my side during the night. I noticed how sometimes her eyes went glassy while she stared at nothing in particular. I wished I could help her and be there for her, but Lord Bolton had been charming and intelligent. I was none of that. And the more time passed, the more I realized that I could not replace him. I could not replace him as Lord of Winterfell. I could not replace him as Sansa’s husband. I could clearly not replace him in the eyes of Myranda either.

She had shown me around in his rooms once. She had shown me his bed, his clothes. She had shown me his perfume and had told me how Winterfell used to smell of him. She had told me how she could still here his voice in the middle of the night, especially when the dogs howled and the cold wind blew around the house.

Eventually I decided that I had to do something, that I needed something to keep me occupied, to distract me, to help me to prove the North that I was good at something, that I was a Lord they could admire and look up to. “I want to throw a masquerade.” I had just won my first game of chess and Sansa was sitting on my lap. “Just like Ramsay used to do. I’ve heard people talking about it and I would like to keep the tradition he started.”

Sansa hesitated. She loosened her grip around my neck and a frown covered her forehead. “I don’t know…”

“It will be fun, I promise. It will give us something to look forward to and it will give me something to do.”

She paused for a moment, but then she pecked my cheek. “Fine, we will throw a masquerade.” She stood up from my lap. “But I want nothing to do with it. I leave it all to you.”

“I will not let you down, I promise.”

 

The next few months I spent all my time on the masquerade. I sent invitations to literally everyone in Sansa’s address book. I also sent an invitation to Daenerys. I took care of the decorations and the buffet. I instructed the maids and servants on where the furniture should be placed and I came up with countless suggestions for costumes for others. I had however some trouble with finding the perfect costume for myself. After all, I wanted to impress our guests, but most of all my wife. I wanted to show her that I was worth her love and attention, that I was good enough, that I could be the Lord of Winterfell, that I was maybe not better than Lord Bolton had been, but that I was not worth gossipping and whispering about either.

It was Myranda who helped me out eventually. She led me through the hallway to Sansa’s favorite painting on the wall, a portrait of her elder brother a few years ago dressed as the famous phantom of the opera.

I couldn’t thank Myranda enough for her help and immediately I contacted one of the best sewers in town to make me an exact replica of the costume Robb Stark had been wearing. Although I knew I was not as handsome as he was, I couldn’t help feeling pretty pleased with myself when I eventually stared at my reflection in the mirror on the evening of the ball.

Downstairs the living room was already filled with laughter. The air was filled with excitement and not just the air.

My heart was racing in my chest, hammering against my ribs and I carefully put the mask on covering half of my face. My suit fitted perfectly and I noticed how my shoulders were slightly broader than I remembered them to be. I would certainly make an impression, an impression that would stick with each and everyone who was here to witness it.

“Jon? Are you ready yet?” Sansa raised her voice and I took a deep breath.

“Did all the guests arrive?” I yelled back. I had not told her anything about my costume. I wanted this to be as much of a surprise for her as for everyone else. I wanted her to remember this moment as the moment Jon Snow, a simple boy with no rank or fortune, became the true Lord of Winterfell.

“Yes, you’re late at your own party.” Sansa sighed and after one more look at my own reflection I turned around.

On top of the stairs I stood still once more, but then I straightened my back and lifted my chin and started to walk down. I was waiting for the applause, for the compliments, for the excitement spreading through the main hall.

Instead there was nothing but absolute silence.

“What does this mean?” Sansa’s lips were forming a straight line. Her chest moved up and down rapidly and she stared at me as if I was the worst creature she had ever seen in her entire life. “What are you wearing?”

“I thought that…” I let my eyes wander over the crowd, but no one applauded, no one was enthousiast, apart from Daenerys who didn’t seem to understand what was going on either.

“Ramsay wore the exact same costume last year.” Sansa turned her head away from me. “I can’t even look at you. Disappear. Disappear right now. This party is over.” She walked away and slammed the door behind her.

I wasn’t able to move. I was just standing there, on top of the stairs, wondering how this could have happened.

Then I saw Myranda. Her lips were curled up into a devilish grin and her laughter echoed through the absolute silence. She had done it on purpose. She had told me on purpose to wear this costume. She had tried on purpose to make a fool out of me.

And I, foolish as I was, fell for it. And I, stupidly enough, had not questioned her true intentions when she had all of a sudden started helping me. And I, the simple boy with no important name or fame, was once again reminded that I would never be seen as a Lord, that I would never be able to compete with the ghost of Ramsay Bolton, still wandering through the hallways.

 

That night I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Sansa’s horrified face when looking at me. Every time I turned around I heard Myranda’s laughter in my ear. Every time I slightly drifted off I felt the humiliation and shame consuming me. Eventually I stepped out of the bed. I had to talk to Sansa. I had to explain what had happened. I had to ask her for forgiveness. But when I knocked on her door she didn’t answer. I didn’t need to think twice where she had been going.

The memories must have become too strong. She must have fled to the place where Ramsay’s ghost was still floating around. She must have tried to find his smell, his belongings, those pieces of him that had stayed behind.

On the tips of my toes I walked through the hallways until I stood still in front of the door leading towards Ramsay’s old room, which was still exactly like it used to be. I didn’t knock on the door. Instead I started talking. I started stuttering my apologies. I started explaining everything that had happened. I started to tell her that I knew I could never replace the one true Lord of Winterfell.

But when the door was finally opened it was not Sansa who smiled at me. Myranda opened the door a little wider and gestured me to come in. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“To be honest? I haven’t.” I let out a sigh.

“It must be the nearing Winter. It happens to keep people up.”

“You know exactly what’s keeping me up!” I raised my voice and pointed my finger at her.

“As if you wouldn’t have discovered sooner or later that you don’t belong here. You’re not a Lord. You’ve never been one and you’ll never be one.” Myranda walked towards me and I walked backwards until my back touched the huge window.

I needed air. I needed fresh air. I needed to breath. I threw the window open and I closed my eyes while I curled my fingers around the railing.

“You shouldn’t have come here. No one wants you here. Lady Sansa doesn’t want you here. She doesn’t need you here. No one does. You’re useless.” Myranda spoke softly and she placed her hands on both my sides. “You’d be better of dead.”

“I’d be better of dead.” I didn’t know why I repeated her words, but all of a sudden the ground beneath me seemed to call me, seemed to lure me.

“It only takes one step. One step to end this misery. One step to end Sansa’s misery. One step to end your misery.”

I don’t know what would have happened if the dogs had not started barking at that time. But I snapped out of my miserable state and quickly I walked passed Myranda to escape the room, to escape the house, to go where the sound wanted me to go. I knew I had to find her. I had to find her as soon as possible.

But there was nothing but barking and screaming and screaming and barking.

“What happened?” I grabbed the first person I vaguely recognized from the party.

“The dogs escaped.” Violet smirked as if she was drinking in each little bit of drama with everything she had. “They found a dead body in the woods.” She paused for a moment and I felt my knees shaking. “Ramsay’s body.”

My heart stopped beating and I pushed her aside. I really had to find her. I really had to find Sansa. “Sansa?” I screamed her name and eventually I stood still in front of the door leading to the kennel. “Sansa?” I whispered and I licked my lips. “Sansa? I’m sorry.” I paused for a moment. “I know that you’re reminded of him wherever we go and whatever we do.” I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. “I know that you can’t love me as much as you loved him.”

“Loved him?” Sansa raised her eyebrows while she opened the door. “I never loved Ramsay.” She shook her head. “I hated him. He was manipulative and mean. He was wicked through and through. He wasn’t even capable of something like love.”

I kept silent for a moment. “I’m still sorry…” I eventually said.

“Don’t be. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.” Sansa sighed and she fell into my arms. “You were the best thing that happened to me during the last year, but it’s all over now. It’s all over now…”

“I don’t understand…” I held her as tightly as I could. My hand went through her hair and my other hand rubbed her back. “What do you mean it’s over?”

“I killed him.” The words sounded cold, almost emotionless and I didn’t know what to answer, how to react. “I killed him.” She started crying. She started crying in my arms and in between her sniffing she told me the story of what had happened.

“Everything seemed so perfect at first. He was nice and charming and witty. But as soon as we were married, as soon as he was the Lord of Winterfell he showed his true colors. He started to fire the people I trusted. He started to spend all my family’s money on things we didn’t need. He invited girls to come over. He ignored it when I didn’t feel well, when I didn’t want to be with him. Do you remember that cliff we visited in King’s Landing?”

I nodded.

“He took me there. He took me there and told me that he would never love me. That he would keep on inviting women over. That he would keep on taking what he deserved. He said there was nothing I could do about it. And he was right.

I couldn’t divorce him. I would be alone and without my castle and without anyone.

He was the Lord of Winterfell and I was nothing but his wife.” She took a deep breath. “One day, when he came back from one of his many trips to King’s Landing he went to the kennel. I knew he was waiting for one of his lovers to come over. I think he was waiting for Violet, but when I appeared in the door opening he only smirked. He had great plans for the castle. He would take down all the paintings from the Starks. He would break down the walls of Winterfell. He would use the fortune, my fortune, to build the palace he had always wanted to own. And at the very last he promised me to break down the crypt. He would take down the statues of my father and aunt. He would take down the statue of my brother.

I snapped. Something inside of me broke and I pushed him with all the power I had.

He fell on the floor. his head hit one of the gates and he died right away.

I never wanted to kill him, I never wanted him to die and I for sure didn’t want to go to jail because of him. So, I took his body and brought it to a quiet place in the woods. Then I set the dogs free, hoping they would eat him until there was nothing left of him. Nothing.” She hissed the last word and I straightened my back. “I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident.” I spoke firmly. The man I thought I couldn’t compete with was a monster. The man I thought Sansa had loved had hurt her, raped her, destroyed her. I was the better man. I would prove her that I was the better man. “Apart from us no one knows what really happened and we will keep it that way.”

She looked up and she nodded, although she didn’t seem to believe me. She didn’t seem to dare to believe me.

 

In the days that followed I changed everything. I took control of the house. I gave the order to throw all Ramsay’s stuff away. I gave the order to kill his dogs. And I told Myranda to look for a new job, because she was no longer needed nor wanted here.

She didn’t take it lightly. Nor did she react well on the discovery of the body of the man she seemed to truly admire. She insisted to use her right to get a two months notice. She wanted to stay until all the facts about Ramsay’s death had been cleared up.

I wanted to refuse her that right, but the last thing we needed right now was a law suit so I allowed her to stay.

And eventually, on a rainy Monday morning, I accompanied Sansa to the prosecutor.

We were both convinced that it would be nothing but a formality, that they would determine that Ramsay had committed suicide, that he had been the one ending his life himself, that he had let his dogs end it for him. But we were not prepared for Myranda and Violet, determined to prove that Ramsay Bolton’s death had not been by his own hand.

“Ramsay Bolton would never take his own life!” Myranda spoke firmly. She had her hands folded in front of her and she had not looked at us once ever since she had entered the room. “He had everything he wanted and dreamed of. The only thing he feared was dying a slow death because of a horrible disease that couldn’t be treated nor cured. He was young. He was popular. He had no reason to end his own life.”

“And he had no plans to do so either!” Violet stood up with a bunch of papers in her hand. “I found these in his personal belongings…”

“Do I want to know how you got those?” Sansa’s expression hardened and I squeezed her hand in an attempt to calm her down.

“He would have wanted me to have them. He had asked me to come over the night he died. I’m sure it was to present me his plans for the future, for Winterfell. Tell me, does a man who wants to die make plans to restore an entire castle?”

“Restore? Restore?” Sansa raised her voice. “He wanted to destroy it!”

“And there we have our motive.” Violet crossed her arms over her chest and smiled a satisfied smile.

“I didn’t…” Sansa shook her head. “I wouldn’t…” She stuck the tip of her tongue between her lips. “I couldn’t…” She lost her balance and tripped over her own feet, but I caught her before she hit the ground.

“Stay calm…” I hissed between my teeth. “Don’t give them a reason to jump to conclusions.”

The prosecutor took a deep breath. “We need to investigate this case. Miss Violet, do you happen to have found Ramsay’s planner among his personal belongings?”

Violet glanced over at Sansa once more before she stepped forward. “Yes, but I’m sure there is nothing suspicious in there. I checked it already.”

“I will be the judge of that.” The prosecutor stretched out his hand and started to turn the pages until he found the correct date. “I see he had an appointment with Dr. Tarly at ten. Does anyone know why Ramsay went to see a doctor?” The prosecutor looked up and we all shook our heads. “Fine. We will go visit him tomorrow then.”

“I will go with you.” Violet hurried to interrupt him.

“I will accompany you too.” I stepped forward and straightened my back and lifted my chin. I wanted to make sure Violet wouldn’t manipulate the judge. I had to make sure we would find a way to prove that Sansa, my Sansa, had nothing to do with this.

Even though she had.

 

And so I accompanied the prosecutor and Violet the next day on our way to King’s Landing. It did not take long to find the doctor mentioned in Ramsay’s planner, but it did take long to find the name he had been using for himself since it turned out that he had not introduced himself as Lord Ramsay Bolton from Winterfell.

But there had been an appointment at the mentioned day in Ramsay’s planning. And the description of the doctor took away the last little bit of doubt. It had been Ramsay Bolton visiting him and it had been Ramsay Bolton diagnosed with an illness that couldn’t be treated.

Although doctor Tarly, a nice young man who I trusted within a few seconds, had mentioned that there was an experimental cure that could maybe cure the disease, Ramsay had not been willing to take the risk.

He had thanked doctor Tarly for his help, had even paid double the price, and had then left the office.

After doctor Tarly’s story no one doubted anymore that Ramsay Bolton had committed suicide. After all, the one thing he feared was a slow and painful death. One he was promised by being diagnosed with greyscale. And while he planned his own downfall, he had tried to take my Sansa with him.

While I happily called Sansa to deliver the good news, along with the time of our foreseen arrival at Winterfell, Violet had the task to tell Myranda that their biggest nightmare, the bad dream they had not wanted to believe, had been true in the end.

In silence we traveled all the way back and I jumped out of the car when I saw Sansa at the last crossroad. While I wrapped my arms around her I lifted her feet of the ground and twirled her around.

But our joy was interrupted by a soft orange glow brightening the nightly air.

“That’s weird. It’s the middle of the night.” I cocked my head and put Sansa down while she followed my glance.

Her eyes however widened and quickly she started running. “It’s Winterfell! Winterfell is on fire!” She rushed towards the gate and I followed her, but when we arrived we were stopped before we could enter our castle.

“What happened?” I raised my voice and straightened my back. I was starting to feel more and more comfortable when it came to my role as the future Lord of Winterfell, although it now seemed there was not much left to rule over.

“I don’t know!” One of the servants ran towards us. “I’ve made sure to check if all candles were extinguished. I must have missed one.”

“I saw Myranda shortly before midnight! She had one!” A maid, carrying a few buckets filled with water, was out of breath when she finally reached us. “I told her to be careful with it, but she just laughed.”

“She wanted to be with him…” I spoke softly and I wrapped my arms firmly around Sansa.

For me Winterfell was nothing but a castle, a pile of stones, and more bad memories than good ones. For her Winterfell was her childhood, but also the bad dream that had haunted her ever since she had married Ramsay. Maybe, just maybe, it was not that bad that it burned to the ground, that there would be nothing left but a pile of ash and that all ghosts would burn with it.

 

Now Winterfell is nothing but a dream, a vague memory of an adventure that has brought me and Sansa closer than we would have been without it. We found a safe place in White Harbor. It is much smaller than Winterfell, but we will be happy here, which is all I’ve ever wanted and all that I need.


End file.
